Demon's Monthly Achievement Report
by Isipin
Summary: Demon!England finds and raises Angel!America but this won't be easy when he's got Angel!Russia watching his every move and Demon!France annoying him. Follow them in their daily lives as England finds out the difficulty of raising an Angel. USUK and RUUS
1. Of Frogs, Eggs and Surprises

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. The dialogue, story and plot belong to waterylt on you can see some of her work at h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / (no spaces)

The strip can be found here h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / 8 6 8 2 . h t m l (no spaces)

Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya

Ohh and angel!Russia will be appearing too. Yay! But srsly I don't own any of this.

Let's cut to the chase.

I am Arthur Kirkland. I am a demon currently stationed in the human world, London, England to be precise. Right now I am enjoying a cup of tea outside of one of the many cafes the human world seems to be littered with. Not that I'm complaining. Drowning out the incessant noise of the city I pick up the newspaper in front of me. Taking a long sip I focus on the headline.

**THREE DEATHS BY LONDON BRIDGE.**

Three deaths huh? That has to be Gilbert's doing. Opening the paper to the page I started to read more, occasionally skimming over the other insignificant things the humans put in their newspapers. But that's what the human world is, an insignificant void between two other realms. But the longer I stay the more I don't want to go back. There are too many things one could do in the human world. The scenery is better, gardening is fun, and sometimes laughing at the human's stupidity is fun too. The more we understand humans, the more we know what the "real" bad things to their standard. Sometimes killing or arson isn't as bad as a one night stand. Humans might be idiotic beyond words, but their interesting. The "Above" don't interfere with us here, as long as we do our work and follow the rules. Living in the human world is very effective.

Wincing as a group of humans started making even _more_ noise I put down the newspaper and teacup before turning to them. Even with my superior eyes it still took me a while to locate the group in the massive crowd. Humans are worse than rabbits. I suppose that's better for us though. Especially demons like Francis. Speaking of Francis, It's already ten and that frog is not even here… Turning my gaze away from the group of humans I decide I might as well leave because this really was a waste of my time. And _just _when I was about to declare that I was leaving to a nearby waitress so she could give me the bill, I heard it, the most annoying sound in the world.

"Angleterre~"

Quickly picking up the discarded newspaper I smacked the irritating Frenchman in the face before he could come any closer to me or put those dirty little hands anywhere near my body, which, from the looks of it, he was about to. Hmpf, at least he had the decency to dress properly, or in any clothes at all. A nice formal suit actually.

" You Frog, you're late! And don't you touch me." I threatened.

He really didn't seem fazed though.

"Arthur, are you leaving already? I thought we were talking about this month's report." He smirked through the newspaper I had yet to remove. "Are you going to unimaginatively write about how you burnt your kitchen on the monthly report?"

"…"

"So what kind of bad things did you accomplish this month?" Francis asked. He was sitting to my right at the table I had just got up from. I did get to call the waitress, but it was to get Francis some tea and refill my cup.

"I still don't understand why being a demon requires writing monthly reports back to Hell…There really is no meaning in writing it out." I tried to subtly avoid the question by pretending I didn't hear what he said and divert the conversation to something else. Maybe it was not a subtle as I had hoped but my plan did work because the little comment successfully diverted the conversation away from that certain little topic. For how long? I really don't know, though there was that familiar look of glee in the French demon's face that showed that he was thinking of something interesting.

"Recently this whole business even upgraded into online submission!" Francis was practically bouncing in his seat. He _loved_ human technology, particularly the internet. 'It can do anything Arthur!' he would scream. I preferred my 'old fashioned' ways and it shows.

"Are you kidding me? Why can't we use the fire of Hell to send our words?"

The damn frog just smiled and sat back in his chair. I did the same but crossed my arms. I could tell he was going to bring up that little question again so I redirected it at him.

"What are you writing this month?"

"The usual." He replied propping his head up with the palm of his hand and looking out into the crowd. I looked that way too. I mean, who would willingly look at _his_ face for long periods of time?

"Raped and kidnapped 'young, fine' women?"

He gasped and looked absolutely aghast but somehow his smirk still stayed on his face. He never once moved his hand from under his chin."Non, non! I never force those lovely girls~ But I think this month's accomplishment award is in my hand."

Ahh. The famous 'Accomplishment Award.' The thing all demons crave for. The person who stirs up the most trouble in another world or does something truly horrific is graced with this trophy. A chance to say 'HA! I'm better than you!' You don't even need to be strong to compete. Even morons from the first circle had gotten this; one of the greatest achievements in the whole of the underworld. Of course your victory is short lived since there will be someone else who tops you a month later. It always was amusing to see what other demons do to get it though.

"Oh? Where does that confidence come from?"

Francis motioned me closer and I leaned my head over to him reluctantly. You never know what he's going to try. After looking around a bit the Frenchman leaned over and started to quietly whisper in my ear. And I mean quietly too! My demonic hearing could only pick up a few words.

"I am…affair….'s president's wife."

"Wait…WHAT! I can totally imagine you doing something like that but…" I to say I was at a loss for words right now would have been like saying water is wet. Francis obviously took my lack of words as a compliment of sorts and looked even more pleased with himself, If that was possible.

"As long as the media keeps going at this, and it effects the following election, this could possibly be the headline for the whole year!" With a flip of his wrist he threw his blonde hair over his shoulder before continuing. "And I will be the best in Hell for this whole year because no one will be able to top that."

Even _thinking_ about Francis getting the Achievement award this century before me made my blood boil, but there was no way He wasn't going to win with _that._

"…You're just lucky."

"Don't be too jealous Angleterre." The bloody frog replied with before suddenly looking thoughtful. What a miracle the frog is actually _thinking. _"By the way Angleterre. You used to be very serious about this. You had every achievement award for almost a decade when you where a pirate but recently you act like a retired old man. Are you satisfied with the quiet life you have? Your recent reports are all about burning the kitchen and triggering the alarm system." 

There was that damned topic again. In a sudden burst of anger I stood up and slammed my hand against the table. I got a few curious stares from the humans around us but nothing more.

"That was just the preparation for something big." I lied, "You will know when it happens."

I turned around and started to walk away but knowing Francis just_ had_ to say something. If it was anything over for words I wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

"Oh, leaving already?"

Bastard just made it. Talking a deep breath to calm down I turn to face him, only to find that he still had that stupid smirk on his face.

"You were late and I have something more important to do. You pay the bill." I really did walk away this time.

"What?"

Back at my house I sat staring at the computer screen in my favorite turtle neck and a jacket. On the glowing screen is fifteen bold letters: **Accomplishment(s)**. Beneath that was a text box that held the same words I always write.

_**Burnt the kitchen and triggered the apartment alarm.**_

Those simple words irritated me to no ends today though. How I hated those words and long to write something else in there. Not just anything but something big. Something big that would earn me the Accomplishment Award and show that bloody bastard of a frog.

"…Whatever….."

Today suddenly feels like a good day to take a walk.__

After ensuring that my house was secured-that included a spell-so that perverts like Francis could not get in I started down my street. Fuck that online submission, he didn't shouldn't get so worked up over it. Instead I focused my thoughts on finding something big to get the award. Not that I _needed_ it you see, it was just to stop the Frog from getting it. I sighed. Something big…Easier to say than to actually find one. After a few more steps on the stone sidewalk I was alerted to presence of my fairy friends and a few flying mint bunnies too! They always seem to know when I'm feeling down and always cheer me up.

Fairies and other creatures like them are neutral beings and tend to stay away from humans and beings that have a definite 'side. 'Infact many don't even know they exist. It had taken a lot to get them to trust me enough to show themselves to me and an even longer time to have this, dare I say 'friendship.' The flying mint bunnies had approached him first, and then the fairies, gnome, elves and recently I've befriended a unicorn!

I don't really have the mood or energy for what I did before and even the fairies said that there isn't anything interesting happening so what can I do for the award? A sudden noise from one of the mint bunnies drew my attention back to them.

"…hmmm? Wait, what? Something weird…?"

Looking down at the spot they pointed out I saw it.

I had immediately picked it up and carried it home. It was now wrapped comfortably in the fluffiest pieces of fabric and pillows I have in my house, including a little stuffed bunny I keep as a souvenir from one of my old _jobs_. Hey it not my fault the woman had decided it was a good idea to drag her son with her when she ran out into the road to get her hat that had _conveniently blown_ off.

What is 'it' you say? 'It' is an egg. It was surprisingly smooth and a shocking white. From the human world's point of view, it was about the size of an ostrich egg. I didn't think it was one and why would an ostrich egg be on a street in London anyway? The fairies don't know what it is either, and they have mixed feelings about it…Hm, just in case I'll keep it here for a while then, to see what comes out. Maybe it wouldn't even hatch. Or maybe it really is just an ostrich egg that just happened to be on the side of the street and I'm just overanalyzing things.

There was a problem though; I don't exactly have an incubator to keep it warm. Eggs needed to be in a certain temperature to hatch right? Sighing, I went to the thermostat. Ninety seven and a half seemed to be an acceptable temperature. Don't worry I can handle staying in a warm temperature like that for a while. Scorching weather, freezing weather, any extreme or torturous weather the human world could throw at me I can handle. Hell isn't all flames and brimstone. The electricity bill is going to go out of the roof though.

Oh well.

Retreating to my room I stole a quick glance at the egg.

"Goodnight egg."

The first day I had the egg I really did nothing but stand and stare at it. The second day I had only glanced at it twice the entire day. It was no surprise that when the ninth week came around I had forgotten about the egg completely.

In case you're wondering the scandal with Francis and a president's wife didn't get out as soon as he had hoped so his 'obvious win' had to be postponed. It was all over now though. The prize last month went to some low level nobody that had convinced a school bus driver to get drunk before work so they had crashed into the side of a building. I really couldn't see why that was such a big deal, there were _many_ survivors.

I had gone to sleep shirtless -and happy since Francis hadn't won yet- that night.

Sometime later that night my half awake conscience was graced by a weird feeling. My surroundings were too pure…to off balance in my house filled with demonic essence. My toes dragged along the cotton sheets and I could feel the soft padding of the pillow on my face. Something is…very strange…something…feels…strange. My fingers curl around something softer and smoother than the sheets. Feathers? Dragging them around the new material the tips of my fingers absentmindedly stroke it. Then they brushed past something else. A small hand. At this realization I was fully awake and sitting up faster than humanly possible. I was looking down at an angel, an angel child. The material I had felt just seconds before was its wings. They looked frail and weak and were about the same size as it's-I mean-his body (though that was not much since it had the appearance of a three year old) and bright white feathers covered it. The angel himself had sandy blond hair and slightly tanned skin. I was suddenly hit with the terrifying urge to touch them. It-I mean- he* was wearing a white gown with a long strand of red string tied in a neat bow around the collar.

Of course. I thought. Because angels are too pure to be born naked like the rest of us.

Through all of these observations the only things besides this running through my mind were as followed:

'Why is there an angel child in my bed?'

'How the hell did it get in my house!'

'Pretty…'

And let's not forget the famous-

'Fuck I'm screwed'

My eyes caught something at the side of the bed. It was a large chunk of an egg shell and a few more smaller pieces scattered around it. Peeping over the edge of the bed I could see a trail of egg shells leading out the door.

"This…this is what was inside the egg?"

I really didn't have any time to collect my thoughts after that new insight because the sound of my voice seemed to have woken it-I mean-him up. It-I mean he- mumbled something about being cold before his eyes fluttered open, showing blue irises for the rest of the world to see. Green met blue for only a second before the little angel sprang up into a sitting position also, but not out of fear like me. It actually looked happy?

"Mammy!"

"….."

It-I mean- he suddenly keeled back from the sudden wave of demonic aura that filled the room. It was coming from me but I didn't realize that until later. Grabbing its-I mean-his head so he could not esca-err-fall off the bed, I told him a little bit about myself.

"I am a man, so you need to call me Dad. Understand?"

"Yes Dad." The trembling angel answered.

At a more reasonable hour in the day I was sitting across from the little angel and it was just staring back at me. Granted I was staring back at it-him-but he was looking at me with such adoration and love that it made me wonder if he realized that our races have been enemies since both were created. Judging from the grin he just flashed me…probably not. I just can't believe that it was an angel egg. Those hypocrites, always saying how bad we treat our young and they just abandon their egg in by the street.

I took another look at the angel child. He was sitting in the couch surrounded by all the pillows his egg had been enclosed in and such hugging the stuffed rabbit. One of my jackets was draped around its-his-shoulders after he complained about being cold _after _I turned the heat all the way up. The angel child gave me another smile and I just looked on in curiosity, contemplating on what I should do with this thing. If I returned it they will definitely blame me for stealing the egg. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the computer. Getting up and sliding into the desk chair I stared at the glowing screen. It was on the accomplishments page since I have yet to finish the monthly report. How could I? The month had just started. I started to type and a smirk slowly stretched across my face.

"Sorry Francis, this month's award is mine."

And on that glowing screen, in the small text box were the words:

_**I have an angel as my pet **_

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. The dialogue, story and plot belong to waterylt on you can see some of her work at h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / (no spaces)

The comic strip can be found here h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / 8 6 8 2 . h t m l (no spaces)

Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya

Woo I'm finally done this took me a whole day. But I'm so happy! I've been given permission to put this on and by waterylt. My dreams have come true. Just so I'm sure you guys get this I own nothing. I'm just the one who typed out something that's already been done that you have to see. Really you do. By the way I need criticism I live off of it and I work faster with reviews *hint hint* so press that button and drop in a review for me plz.

Notes: *England keeps referring to America as 'It' because of tension between angels and demons. He is trying to correct himself though so we know he's not all bad.

I might have made England a bit OOC now that I look back at the comic and compare but I don't know how to change that. If any of you know how please tell me.


	2. Of Baths, Names and Food

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. The plot belongs to waterylt on you can see some of her work at: **

**h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / (no spaces)**

** The comic strip can be found here h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / 8 6 8 2 . h t m l (no spaces)**

** Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya**

-line -

The first day was Hell. (Please don't mind the pun.) I remember vaguely wondering if this was the kind of torture the souls of the damned went through. If so I'm starting to feel sorry for them- but not much mind you.

I broke away from our little staring match to make some tea to calm my mind but as soon as I headed over to the kitchen I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet against the floor. I stopped, it stopped, I continued, it continued. Whipping around I met the curious blue of the little angel. The rest of his face and most of his body was covered by that stuffed rabbit it- damn it I mean he!-seemed to like so much.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. My voice leaked anger and annoyance but the angle really didn't seem to notice. All it did in response was grin at me again and flutter its wings happily sending feathers flying everywhere. That is going to take forever to clean up. That thought did nothing to help my anger, quite the opposite actually.

"Well!"

Were angels incapable of detecting anger or reading the atmosphere at all?

In the end his response answered that question.

"I'm following you."

I pinched the bridge of my nose in an unsuccessful attempt to compose myself. "I can see that," I mumbled. "Why?"

" 'Cause you're my mammy."

The lights flickered and the shadows in the room danced before peeling from the wall forming into a thick, black mist.

"I am male," My voice was warped and sounded absolutely horrific if I do say so myself. Only then did I realize that I was responsible for the shadows. I looked down at the little angel. Tremors of fear shook its body and the minute being held on to the stuffed rabbit like its life depended on it. Those eyes locked onto mine – those big, blue eyes – and I forced myself to calm down. B-but not because I cared you see! Only because…if..if…if it –heee- faints or something he won't be able to do the work around the house like a useful pet…Yeah. The shadows went back to their rightful place and the lights turned back on. I sighed before returning my gaze to the newly hatched creature. I made the most comforting face I could before trying to speak to him again.

"Don't call me mommy okay? That's for women and I'm a man. You have to call me Daddy if you want to call me something like that."

The innocent little thing just nodded his head before grabbing onto my shirt with a chubby hand. We made our way to the kitchen like that, where I started to prepare the tea. This was also where he seemed to work up the nerve to start asking questions; a lot of questions.

"What's that?"

"A kettle."

"What's it do?"

"Boil water."

"…..what's that?"

"Tea leaves."

"Leaves?"

"Something that comes from plants."

Recognition flooded the angel's face and he tugged on my shirt to get my full attention. I looked down to see him pointing out the window, to the bid oak tree and various flowers in the garden.

"Plants." He stated confidently with a smile. I couldn't help but to smile back

"Yes they're plants."

-time skip -

I took the finished tea and returned to the living room, well aware of my little pet following behind me. I sat down at the dining room table and leisurely sipped it. I didn't enjoy it as much as I usually do because I could feel a pair of eyes staring at me. Sighing I turned to him. He looked nervous and his face was back to being buried in the rabbit fur. He looked so cute! I mean..to you weak minded humans, obviously.

"What do you want now?" I asked. Taking care of this angel spawn better pay off in the end.

He didn't respond right away, choosing instead to stare at the ground and make circles in it with his feet.

"I'm hungry Ma-Daddy." He said in a soft, desperate voice. This surprised me greatly; I didn't know angels needed to eat food. I always thought they lived off the goodness of human hearts like some weird parasite or some crap like that.

"Okay then, what do you want?" I replied, getting up and going on my second trip to the kitchen for the morning. Putting the empty tea cup and saucer into the sink I started my hunt for food. The fridge was empty and the cupboards too.

"Crap." I mumbled to myself remembering that I had used up all the food in my quest to make myself lunch some days ago that resulted in burning the kitchen and triggering the apartment alarm. Last month's achievement report actually. I would need to go to the supermarket and pick up food but I didn't know what the angel could eat and I can't take him with me until he learns how to hide his wings. Frowning, I turned around, expecting to see the angel behind me but was met only with my slightly charred kitchen and air. I let my green eyes scan for him. I immediately picked up his sandy blonde hair. He was sitting on the living room floor playing contently with the stuffed toy and didn't seem to notice me. I needed to get his attention.

"Hey! Angel!...Kid!...arg! You there in front of the telly!"

In the end I don't think it was that he realized that I was calling him as much as it was that he wanted to know where the noise was coming from. I really needed something to know where the noise was coming from. I really needed something better to call him than 'the angel.' When he came over I tried to remedy this problem.

"What's your name kid? I asked.

"I don't know," was the response. I was taken aback.

"You mean you aren't born knowing your name?" He nodded. We demons are born knowing our name since it holds so much power over us. To prevent it from being known we have a fake name also. This changes repeatedly over the years as we find another name that we think sounds better or helps us fit into our chosen society better. However, considering what the angel just told me it doesn't work the same way for angels, so how do they get their names and more importantly how will I address him?

"So what do you want to be called? I inquired, desperate for something to call him by. The angel just grinned, again, and gave the most useless reply.

"Anything that Daddy wants to call me is fine."

Thinking that he was kidding I tries again.

"Seriously now."

He gave me the same answer. Groaning I pressed the palm of my hand to my forehead and slowly dragged it down my face in an attempt to rid my head of the annoyance that was building up quickly.

"I'm not good with names," I admitted. "So pick one yourself."

"Anything that Daddy wants to call me is fine."

I lost my temper for a minute there and I was about to open my mouth to tell him _exactly_ what Daddy wanted to call him when there was a loud grumbling. We both looked down at the same time. While I was wondering how anything in existence could make such a loud noise the angel reminded me of my original task.

"Daddy," he whined. "I'm hungry."

I snapped back to reality. After mumbling something about food so incoherent that not even I know what I was saying I walked to the front door, grabbing my jacket along to way to keep up appearances. It was early spring so to humans it would still be a bit chilly. Fixing my jacket I looked at my little pet.

"Since you're my pet you need to make yourself useful, so clean up all the feathers you shed in the house," I ordered. "and…ummm." I looked around for something else for him to do so I don't have to. Spotting the mop leaning against the wall by the kitchen I rushed over and grabbed it. "Mop the floors too." I said, thrusting it in his hands.

-time skip-

That's about it. I thought to myself, looking around. My eyes landed back on the angel.

"I'm going now." I stated. My new pet lifted the bucket away from his face, using the other hand to hold on tightly to the towering forms of the broom and mop along with some other cleaning supplies. He looked stricken. His lower lip trembled and tears welled up in his eyes.

"You're leaving me?" All alone in a big house forever? Don't leave me Daddy! I love you!" He cried. I gaped unbelieving before crouching down to his level. I removed to bucket from its perch on his head and unhooked the duster from his ear.

"I'm not leaving you forever. I will be back. Before you know it I'll be walking through the door, so don't cry. It makes you look disgusting." That was the closest thing to comforting I could do but I was surprised at how sincere I sounded. The angel sniffed and let all the cleaning materials he was holding clatter to the ground to messily wipe away his tears.

"You promise?" he stuttered between hiccups. I naturally hesitated for a fraction of a second. Demons do not bind themselves to something unless they get something out of it in the end. I shook my head furiously to clear my mind before confirming his statement suddenly. "I promise," B-but not because I cared about him you see I-it's b-because I'll have to come back to my house anyway you stupid humans. Hmpf.

Rubbing away the last of his tears my baby angel muttered on okay. Taking that as he's feeling better I open the door and step out into the spring air. I started to close the door but just before it clicked into position I heard a soft whisper.

"Bye bye Daddy."

Smiling to myself I dug the house keys from my pockets and locked the door. Turning around and starting my walk to the car I was hit with a sudden realization. Anything that wished to enter my house of all things usually would not be deterred by a simple lock and my little angel could always unlock it from the inside and get lost! Another scenario popped into my head. One involving Francis and anything involving Francis is never good. A second scenario involving Francis entered my mind, then another, and another, and another…

Spinning around I sprinted to the door preparing my strongest shield spell that would ensure that nothing but me could get in or out. I stopped myself from running into the wall and placed my hands on the wall. Almost immediately a purple wave of energy engulfed the house before dissipating. Calming down significantly I restarted my trek to the car.

-time skip-

I almost laughed out loud at the irony of what I held in my hand.

'_Halo baby powder milk formula has the perfect nutrition and taste for your little angel' _was written on the tin in a tasteless form of cursive. I scoffed but threw it in the rapidly filling cart anyway. Making my way to the cashier I stopped when something caught my eye. Teeny containers of baby food lined the shelves. _My_ angel's physical appearance and mental capability seemed like that of a three year old despite being born yesterday. Would that mean he would eat like a three year old? I hadn't thought of that before. That would mean I would have to buy a lot of solid food. Then again he's never eaten before so he should start with something mild.

Throwing some in the cart I continued to the cashier. I emptied the shopping cart onto the counter and waited for the teenager to finish doing her job. My eyes wandered over to the small magazine rack above the counter. Every single one had Francis' scandal on the cover. There was whatever president's wife and in all his disguised glory was Francis. Complete with straight brown hair and dark eyes. One even had Francis and the president's wife – uuhg! What the hell was that! Who would put that on a magazine!

Quickly looking away I focused on the brightly colored candy. There I spotted something stuck between the wall and the rack. Honestly, humans these days are so untidy. Pulling the object from the tight space it was in I studied it. It was a book. It was at least an inch thick with thin, yellowing pages and a leathery cover. It felt dusty to the touch and the 'old book' smell was coming off it in waves. I wondered exactly how long the book had been stuck there.

The title was faded but I could still make it out. _'A History of Names.'_ This is just what I needed. If I wasn't what I was I would have called it a miracle. The names were probably out of date but a name is a name. I threw it on the pile. The rest of my time in the supermarket consisted of dodging the attempts of the teenager to find out every single thing about my personal life.

-time skip-

The drive back home was uneventful but that changed very soon. That was surprising since everything started out fine. I pulled into the drive way and everything was fine. I took the bags out of the car and everything was fine. I walked up to the front door and everything was fine. I took out the keys and everything was fine. I opened the front door and promptly shut it. Everything was not fine. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes. Please tell me that Francis, Gilbert or Antonio learnt how to cast spells and made me see that with an illusion thereby eliminating the need for me to do a mass memory wipe whenever they (mostly Francis) do anything stupid. Please tell me that- well you get it. I chanted this a few more times in my head before grasping the door knob.

Feeling the cold metal against my palm I forced the dread from my body. Just hurry up and get it over with. I thought to myself. I rotated my wrist. It's just an illusion, something that's not really there. Right, it's not there. Not there! Gaining a sudden burst of courage I swung the door open. I could hear it push against the wind and smash into the wall with tremendous force but I couldn't see it. I felt like I couldn't see anything. Nothing that I saw registered in my mind for a long time. That meant I was left staring at my living room like a complete moron. I had a perfectly good reason to though.

The living room was a complete mess. There was a layer of dust over everything, so thick that you couldn't see the colors of any of the furniture. There was an equal amount of dust floating around the room that could be seen with the bare eye. The floor was caked in mud that matched the mud on the walls though much, much drier. Then to top it all off there were feathers everywhere that somehow managed to stay white. I have never been so close to tears in my life.

I looked for the only person capable of doing this: the angel. Scarily, he was no way to be seen. I only told him to clean the living room but what if he decided to 'clean' anywhere else? I shuddered at the thought.

I stepped inside and even through my shoes I could feel the grime on the floor. I spotted the stuffed rabbit on the couch. If that was there the angel couldn't be too far away.

I called for him and didn't have to wait long because sound of toddler sized feet hitting the filth covered ground as soon as I opened my mouth.

"Daddy!" he screamed, launching himself at me with his arms open for a hug. Something hit me with the force of a freight train and I was literally thrown back onto the porch.

Groaning,, I looked on my chest for the culprit. The angel who has yet to me named was laying on me, hugging me with enough force to force the air out of my lungs.

Had he always been this strong?

"Daddy! Daddy! You did come back! I missed you daddy!"

"Yeah." I murmured trying to get some air back in my lungs. .

"But I have a question Daddy," He said looking absolutely confused. He gestured to the living room, "is that what clean looks like?"

"No." I answered. I sat up, causing the blue eyed hatchling to slide down onto my lap. The-angel-who-I-really-need-to-get-a-name-for looked up at e with a face that screamed dejection and sadness. "But it's okay."

I placed a hand on his head to calm him. I could feel the dirt in it, and if I worked my fingers in deeper I could feel slime that very much resembled egg white.

Wonder how long that's been festering there.

"What's this?"

"Hm?" I drew back my fingers from his hair and followed his gaze.

"That's the book where I am hoping to get a name for you."

"Really? Can I get one now?" he begged. I rolled my eyes.

"I thought you said you were hungry." I smiled when he blushed.

"Please."

"After a bath."

I moved him off my lap to pick up the fallen groceries, ignoring the protests of it being too cold. He's been complaining about the cold ever since he hatched. The only time he wasn't complaining about it was when he is in physical contact with me. I wondered if he was just the touchy-felly type since explaining to him repeatedly that there was no way my body heat could be higher than the inside of the house didn't seem to deter him.

After packing out the groceries I found myself with in the bathroom next to a filthy angel and a full tub. Sighing- I've been doing that a lot lately- I removed the…uuuh…dress that he was wearing. It came of easily despite the fact that they had two angel wings sticking out of it.

Wait a minute. Damn! I forgot to get clothes for him and the wings probably ripped the back to shreds. I might be able to salvage it with my needlework skills though. Picking up the dress I looked at the back. It was perfectly fine! No rips, scratches or any kind of damage at all, in fact it was not even dirty. Strange. I looked back and forth between the angel's wings and the dress before dropping it over the wings. I watched as it drifted down towards the wings and _pass right through them! _I did this over and over again. The angel was looking at the bubbles in the bath and didn't seem to notice at all. Hmm.

-time skip-

"How about Alfonso? This was the name of six kings of Portugal and kings of several ancient regions of Spain."

The rest of the bath had gone without incident and now I am sitting with the angel on my lap while discussing names for the angel that were in the book. Well trying to at least.

"Anything Daddy wants to call me is fine," he responded. That was the only reply I was getting from him through the whole thing. I was determined to make him choose his own name and I was not giving up until then.

"Okay then, how about Alfred? It was the name of a 9th-century king of Wessex who fought against the Danes living in the northeast of England. He was also a scholar, and he translated many Latin books into Old English. He was and still is regarded as a hero to many people in Britain."

I waited for his response already expecting it to be the usual but I got a pleasant surprise instead.

"A hero?"

"Yes a hero," Seeing his confused face I quickly gave a short definition. "a person of well-known courage or ability who is admired for his brave deeds and good qualities. Basically someone that helps others"

"I wanna be a hero. Can I have this name Daddy?"

I almost danced with the relief I felt that he finally chose a name. "Of course Alfred," I said making sure to use his new name. He absolutely beamed with joy.

"Let's get you to bed now." I picked him up and carried him to my room. The guest bedroom was being used to hold many of my old things so until I cleaned it up he would have to stay with me. I lay him gently on the bed and was going to climb in myself (I think I deserved a good night's rest for all I've been through) I heard a familiar growling. I looked at him warily. "I thought you said you weren't hungry."

That was how I found myself in the kitchen preparing a bottle of milk for Alfred. Alfred…Alfred…Aaaalfreeeed. Sounds strange, especially since I had known Alfred the Great-the one he got the name from. But it is his name now and I'll have to call him by it. It's better than having to call him 'the angel.'

With that thought I returned to the bedroom with the bottle in my hands. I gave it to him and slipped into a pair of pajamas before crawling under the covers as well. Ahh~ today had been trying but I prevailed in the end and now I will be awarded with a good night's rest. Yes…peaceful…slumbe-

_**Nudge **_

So much for peaceful slumber. I opened my eyes and turned to face Alfred.

"What?"

He raised the still-full bottle to my face with a pleading look on his. I got the silent message.

"I am not going to feed you. You have your own arms, use them." I resorted, ready to go to sleep. He looked up at me with that same pleading look. I was not going to have my will bent by an angel only a day old! I am Arthur Kirkland: one of the highest ranking demons in the Underworld, Dark Knight of Europe, The most feared pirate, Ruler of the seven se- are those tears? Was he crying?

A minute later he was cuddled against my chest, sucking on the bottle that I was holding. I didn't do this because I caved in you see! Only because I didn't want the sheets wet because of his tears. Stupid humans.

I didn't know when he finished drinking the milk, or when he fell asleep because I was dead to the world not long after.

-line-

**Hello everyone that is reading this, I come to you from the afterlife where I am now residing after dying from being *cough**_**lazy**_**cough* overworked. I am very sorry for the delay but this took longer than I expected and me being lazy also had something to do with it. **

**But writing this has been really amusing 'cause I since I live in the Caribbean (anyone who guesses which country gets to request what they want in their very own chapter of this story!) I write in British English so I put my spell check to American English since I figured a lot of my readers would be American. Therefore some words I think are right technically aren't. Apparently whenever this happens to me I 'make a strange noise and start laughing.' It's fine if you're alone but when you're in public people look at you funny.**

** Oh well, thank you for reading this far and constructive criticism is welcomed.**

** Thank you ****waterylt, cat'akai****, ****TheNinjaWangsta**** and ****BrokenBridges.**** Reviews make my day. **


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